


Agrodolce

by Eros_thanatos89



Series: Recipe for Rue [2]
Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Complete, Doctor is the new Daddy, Dominant Hannibal and Frederick, Double Anal Penetration, M/M, Oral Sex, Rimming, Submissive Will, Threesome - M/M/M, sex thinly disguised as therapy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-06
Updated: 2018-07-06
Packaged: 2019-06-06 08:05:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,069
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15190454
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Eros_thanatos89/pseuds/Eros_thanatos89
Summary: Both of these men held such power over him, even the power of life or death itself, depending on their testimonies at his trial. It only made sense, then, to surrender to them in every way. To give them physically what they already held so precariously. Here they all were, bound inextricably by strange and frightful circumstance, by blood, and now by flesh.sequel to "Vengeance Isn't Always Sweet"





	1. one

**Author's Note:**

> I didn’t intend to write a sequel to my fic "Vengeance Isn’t Always Sweet", but a friend of mine after reading it, said “Now I just want to see Will railed by Chilton and Hannibal at the same time and call them both Doctor during because it makes my submissive little heart so thrilled.” So then this happened. So this one’s for you L, cheers.

The tension in the air was palpable, crackling like an electric storm. Hannibal Lecter and Frederick Chilton regarded each other coldly in front of Will Graham’s cell, poised like two snakes about to strike. “I’d like to speak to Will privately, Frederick” Hannibal said, fingering the BHSCI visitor’s badge clipped to his lapel. His tone was civil, but the way he glanced down his nose at the other man was purely dismissive. 

A little smirk tugged at the corner of Frederick’s mouth. “I’m sure that you do,” he conceded, “but I’m afraid it’s not possible. You have a rather...distressing... influence on Will, and he’s at a very delicate point in his therapy at the moment. I’ll have to insist that he avoid communicating with you for some time.” Chilton twirled his cane almost gleefully in his hand. Hannibal’s jaw clenched imperceptibly, except to Will. 

Will had not expected to see Hannibal any time soon, if ever again, after their last meeting.  It must have been the imminence of his impending trial (and hence, possible execution) that had drawn him back. His curiosity would be too great not to witness the outcome. A fragile hope fluttered in his chest that just maybe Hannibal was here now because he cared. Will tried to suppress that hope. It was far more likely that Hannibal would be just as thrilled to see him fry in the electric chair as he would be to see him walk away unscathed. 

Sitting on his hard cot, Will watched the two doctors’ clash of egos like a spectator at a tennis match. The dynamic between his two psychiatrists had always been strained, but the unspoken element intensifying it was the fact that Will had seduced Dr. Chilton to lash out against Hannibal. Will smirked, finding a petty gratification in the knowledge that these two esteemed professionals were squabbling over him like preteens. Impetuously, he strolled up to the bars of his cell, leaning his forearms on the crossbars. 

“If the learned doctors don’t mind their patient making a suggestion,” he drawled, “why not collaborate? After all, as Dr. Chilton pointed out, I’m at a...what was it...delicate point in therapy. Surely I could use as much care and as many _guiding hands_ as possible.” He glanced over his glasses at them, laying heavy emphasis on the double entendre. 

Chilton gave him a scolding look, but Hannibal smiled like  the cat who’s eaten the proverbial canary. “Will has made an excellent point, Frederick,” he said evenly, “We both bring a different dynamic and expertise to our practice. Perhaps a joint session would be instructive.” 

“I’m not confident that my patient always acts in his best interest,” Frederick contested archly, “I don’t think it would be therapeutic, Will--or wise-- for you to engage in therapy, or any other relationship _ , _ with Hannibal at the moment. Given the seriousness of the accusations you’ve made against him. Of which I know you’re well aware, Dr. Lecter.”  

“You yourself acknowledged that I was quite unstable when I made those accusations,” Will retorted, “and Jack hasn’t been able to find any evidence to support my claims, though the team have done their due diligence. I think, Dr. Chilton, that we can accept that Dr. Lecter is innocent until proven guilty. In which case, Dr. Lecter, maybe you and I will trade places here.” He shot a puckish smirk at Hannibal. “Until then, I think maybe a joint session with both of my doctors will provide me with some much needed structure and stability. Wouldn’t you agree, Dr. Chilton?” 

Frederick twirled his cane speculatively. “I suppose it could be illuminating,  but we have to proceed in a strictly guided manner.” He smoothed his tie and fixed Will with  an peevish glance. Will smiled insouciantly, “I think we’ll have some fun, doctors.” 

 


	2. two

    Dr. Chilton led them into an unused therapy room. A chaise lounge and two stylish mid-century armchairs were centered on a soft gray rug. The walls were painted a soothing shade of light green. It almost looked like a normal therapist’s office, except for the lack of any decoration or  sharp objects, and in one corner, an emergency call button and a gurney fitted with leather restraints loomed as a reminder of the restrictive setting and ever present potential for violence. 

_      This must be one of the few places Chilton doesn’t have bugged _ Will thought, both amused and appalled by Chilton’s utter disregard for his patients’ privacy (and  most likely, for legality). Now that he was alone with the two men, the playful levity that had spurred him ebbed away. Will felt a sudden twist of anxiety in his guts, and a simmering of lust. He hesitated in the doorway. 

    Hannibal, on the other hand, appeared as at ease here as in his own office. He draped an arm around Frederick Chilton’s shoulder and pulled the other psychiatrist with him across the room to confer quietly. His personal distaste for Chilton was outweighed by his curiosity in this situation. So this inept therapist, this near charlatan, was the man with whom Will had sought to replace him? The mere idea stung him with not only jealousy but an affront to aesthetics--it was not an equal pairing.This self-aggrandizing fool could not hold a candle to his Will. And yet...it would be interesting to see (and taste and touch) Will in this context, with another man. Hannibal was never one to turn down a new experience. He leaned in close to Frederick and spoke softly. 

    The two doctors appeared to come to some sort of agreement and stepped apart, focusing their attention on Will like a laser. Hannibal spoke to him in a soft but firm tone,“Dr. Chilton and I have decided that in our collaboration, we will address the needs you expressed for structure and discipline. Are you in agreement with that?” Will nodded. “Good,” Hannibal continued, “then you will adhere strictly to any instructions we give you. We’re here to guide you, but to do so will require that you give up control.” Will nodded again, tongue too thick in his mouth to form words. He wondered if the trembling in his legs was visible to the two men across the room. He felt slightly off balance, but it was not an entirely unpleasant sensation. 

Hannibal’s face maintained a neutral expression as he delivered his first directive, “Strip.” 

    Heat rushed instantly to Will’s face and his fingers trembled and fumbled, but he slid down the zipper of his hospital jumpsuit and stepped out of it. He looked down at the floor, the intensity of the two men watching him almost a physical weight against his skin. A single word from Hannibal brought his gaze back up though, “No.” Hannibal did not sound angry exactly, just stern.  “All of it” Hannibal clarified. Will flushed further, sliding down his underwear as well. He fought the urge to cover himself and forced himself to meet the gaze of both of his psychiatrists. It was incredibly vulnerable, standing completely exposed in front of these two men armored in their three piece suits. Two sets of brown eyes roamed over him with the rapt attention of art appraisers. Will’s mouth was extremely dry. 

   “Come greet Dr. Chilton,” Hannibal said, almost conversationally. Will took a tentative two steps forward, and then was halted by Hannibal’s clipped reprimand. “Not like that. Crawl.” Will bit his lip to stop himself from protesting. “Yes, Doctor Lecter” he breathed, rolling the weight of the words in his mouth like a spill of wine. He folded slowly to his knees and crawled across the room. Time seemed to stretch interminably, and Will was hyperconscious of how he must look: naked, on his knees. Animalistic. He stopped in front of Dr. Chilton and, seized by an impulse, leaned forward to lick his already shiny dress shoe. Its faint leather taste was somewhat pleasant, and Will let himself enjoy treating it like a more intimate part of the doctor’s body, laving the Oxford tip and sides with his tongue, even lapping at the laces. It was curious, but he found himself growing hard. A weight settled against the back of his neck, and then he was pressed flat to the ground, his face mashed embarrassingly against Dr. Chilton’s shoe. Hannibal’s foot was holding him down at the nape like a pinned insect. Will let out a groan that, to his chagrin, was all pleasure. Hannibal bent and took Will's hands, pulling them taut behind his back. He briefly traced his lips across Will’s wrists, then removed his black tie and knotted them securely. “Good boy” Hannibal said silkily,  releasing Will from his pinioning.

   It was a struggle to get back to his knees without the use of his hands, but Will relished the chance to rise to a challenge.  With some wriggling and whispered cursing, he managed to pull himself back to kneeling. A low heat burned in his belly, an exquisite sort of humiliation born of being watched dispassionately by the doctors,who did not lift a finger to help him as he writhed wormlike on the floor, ass sticking up in a manner that was surely more ridiculous than provocative.  He leaned forward, preparing to lick Chilton’s other shoe, but the doctor slid his cane under Will’s chin, gently tilting his face up to look at him. “You make a very pretty picture on your knees, Will.” Chilton noted appreciatively, “As impressed as I am by your immediate acceptance of subservience, I'd prefer to use that mouth of yours in more amusing ways.” Frederick slid his cane out from under Will’s chin and pressed it lightly to the back of his head, leveraging it to press Will against his groin. A little hum of pleasure reverberated in Will’s throat and Chilton drew in a sharp breath. Unable to rely on his hands for stability,  Will instead pressed his mouth firmly to Chilton’s loins, teasing at his cock, pressing kisses and licks along its length through the fabric of his slacks. He rocked back slightly, only to be caught by Chilton’s fingers tangling in his curls. “Do you like that, Doctor?” Will asked huskily. 

   “God yes,” Chilton said roughly, “but no more teasing. Show me just how compliant you can be.” Chilton unzipped his trousers, freeing his cock. He pressed the tip to Will’s lips and said succinctly, “Suck.” Will did, with gusto. His gaze slid to the side, and a thrill raced up his spine at the hungry look on Hannibal’s face, watching intently as Will sucked the other psychiatrist off. Will made a production of moaning around Chilton’s cock, hollowing out his cheeks to take it as deep into his throat as possible. A stream of swears tumbled from Chilton’s lips and he thrust his hips hard into Will’s mouth. The force of Chilton’s hips drove his cock deep into Will's throat and his fingers tugging sharply at his hair held him too close for reprieve, making it difficult to breathe. Will inhaled thinly through his nose, fighting not to gag, to take it gracefully. Tears welled in the corners of his eyes, his wrists twisted pointlessly against their bonds, and he began to choke in spite of himself, throat convulsing around Chilton’s shaft. The little noises of distress, and the sight of Will's mouth stretched around him, his eyes glazed and teary behind his glasses, drove Frederick over the edge and he came with a loud moan. Will did his best to swallow, but rivulets of sticky white ran down his chin. He closed his eyes, chest heaving with the rush of air to his lungs. 

   He jerked slightly in surprise when he felt a wet tongue lapping the sticky residue from his face. His eyes fluttered open and came into focus on Hannibal kneeling beside him, licking the cum from his lips as if it were cream. Hannibal's eyes locked on Will's, and the dark smolder in them turned their amber brown color almost carnelian. Hannibal's lips covered Will's, not so much kissing him as claiming him, or perhaps reclaiming--retaking his hold over him. Will had the sensation of falling, drawn into the black hole of Dr. Lecter’s hunger. 

     Hannibal stood swiftly, and Will's eyes trained on the considerable bulge in his trousers. He leaned towards him, but Lecter placed the heel of his hand against Will's forehead, fixing him in place. “You've done well, Will” he said. “Exceedingly well,” Dr. Chilton interjected emphatically. Hannibal continued as if Chilton had not spoken, “but in order to find the stability you seek, you will require a harsher course of treatment. You feel unstable, like the ground is shifting beneath your feet, because you fear that the killers you allow into your mind are colonizing, consuming you. You must learn not to fight them, but to abide them. To carve a still space for yourself next to the invaders in your mind. To adapt will require some pain. Metamorphosis cannot occur without sacrifice.” 

    A surge of heat burned through Will at Hannibal's statement. The promise of impending pain jolted his heart into a frenzied staccato and set his cock to throbbing.  “What do you want me to do,  Doctor?” he asked breathlessly. There was warmth and approval in Hannibal's eyes, but his expression remained clinically oblique. “Stand up.” Will stood, shakily. “Dr. Chilton, would you remove the tie from Will's hands, please?” Hannibal's voice was perfunctorily courteous, just a doctor working with a colleague.  “Gladly,” Chilton responded, echoing his tone and hastening to undo the knot. Will rubbed his wrists where the tie had constricted them. The skin was red, smarting as squeezed nerves stuttered back into sensation. “Now Doctor Chilton, will you assist me in escorting the patient to the gurney?” Hannibal asked in that same professional tone.  Chilton's brows flicked up in surprise, and the beginnings of a smile tugged at his mouth as he replied, “My pleasure.” Both doctors removed their jackets and rolled up their sleeves, as if preparing to go into surgery. 

   Will's breath caught in his throat as his doctors flanked him,  each gripping him securely at the biceps and forearm. Hannibal nudged him forward with his hip and Will's feet shuffled stupidly along, as if of their own accord. It should have disturbed him, how easy it was to place himself in their hands, at their mercy. But he felt weightless, content to drift along and let someone else take responsibility. It lulled him into a false sense of…not safety, that would be foolish…but maybe blamelessness,  a protected sort of passivity. 

   They came to a stop next to the gurney and Hannibal released his arm and deftly, almost tenderly, removed Will’s glasses. “Lie down on your stomach,” Hannibal instructed.  Will cautiously began to climb onto the gurney. Chilton stepped forward and supported his movements, pushing him gently upward onto the metal table. Hannibal simply watched. “Try to relax,” he said, nodding at Chilton to signal that they should begin. Will turned his face to the side, watching in his periphery as his doctors secured first his ankles, then his wrists in the leather restraints. 

  "An interesting theory, Hannibal” Chilton mused, “if the patient struggles to find a metaphorical tether to reality, then perhaps a literal one could aid him?” Irritation flashed briefly across Hannibal's face before it returned to mirror-smooth unconcern. “Quite, Frederick” he said brusquely. Hannibal ran his hand languorously down Will’s back, fingertips leaving ripples of gooseflesh in their wake. He kneaded at the swell of Will's ass before trailing his hands down his thighs and calves. Will's whole body was strung taut and trembling. 

   "Frederick-- if I may?” Hannibal gestured towards Chilton’s cane. Chilton handed it over, flushing at the implication. Hannibal tested it in the air, causing a musical  _ swish _ .  Will tensed, awaiting the inevitable blow. “Relax” Hannibal intoned, knowing full well that was almost impossible. The first blow stung, but it was expected, and Will exhaled, gritting his teeth through it. It landed squarely between his shoulder blades, a burn, but nothing he couldn't weather. The next few strikes left red marks across his thighs, buttocks, and low back.  Will forced himself to focus on his breath, pushing air out of his lungs when the cane hit, and gulping it in in the interim. His jaw clenched against moans and whimpers, locking them in. Above him, Hannibal clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Give in,” he coaxed, his voice sweet and deadly as oleander. Hannibal handed the cane back to Chilton, gesturing for him to resume where he'd left off.  

    Frederick cracked his cane down across Will's ass. He revelled in holding power over others. If he was honest with himself, that was a major deciding factor in his career choices. But he was not accustomed to inflicting pain. He was surprised at how hard he grew, leaving crosshatched welts on Will's skin, and when moans and sobs began to spill through Will's lips. It was an intoxicating feeling, eliciting such sounds of pain and pleasure from another person, as if he were playing some sort of depraved instrument. “Focus on the present Will,” Chilton said, his voice coming out  hoarse, “don't try to run from it. You’re grounded in this moment. Nothing but sensation. Let the pain anchor you.” This was certainly like no other therapy session Chilton had ever conducted, but the way Will moaned loudly at his statements made him think that it was still beneficial for his patient-prisoner. 

    Hannibal stroked himself through his clothes, drinking in the sight of Will squirming beneath Chilton’s blows. He approached Will, briefly stroking hair out of his eyes. “You are at your best like this, Will” he said softly, “when you’re pushing yourself to the brink of endurance.  I want to draw you this way.” Hannibal’s voice was filled with admiration, and Will shuddered, craving that approval. He knew it was exceedingly stupid to put himself at Hannibal's mercy, and dangerous. After all, this man had not only framed him for several murders, but had himself killed those people, in cold blood, with no motive but his own pleasure. He was a monster. But in that moment, Will didn’t care. He felt like a junkie must, coming out of withdrawal with the sweet relief and elation of that first new hit. He didn’t realize how badly he’d been aching for Hannibal until he was securely back under his thumb.

    “Doctor, please,” he moaned, not sure what he was pleading for, just knowing he needed  _ something _ . His cock was painfully hard, and he struggled to get some relief by writhing against the cold metal of the gurney, but the tight hold of the restraints and the blows from the cane prevented him from fully releasing. His back, ass, and thighs felt as if they had all melted into one throbbing, smoldering pool of pain. It was delicious. 

    Rejoining  Chilton at the foot of the gurney, Hannibal  ran his hands soothingly up Will’s legs while Chilton continued to crack the cane across Will’s upper back and shoulders. Hannibal briefly massaged his ass and upper thighs, then trailed a finger across the crevice between Will’s cheeks. Will mewled pitifully. Then the finger brutally shoved its way inside of him, and that broke the dam at last. Will came with a strangled yelp.

    Chilton paused to wipe sweat from his brow, and to appreciate the sight of Will shuddering through his orgasm. Hannibal took the cane back and brought it down twice more across Will’s reddened and stinging ass. Then he bent to kiss the tenderized flesh, swiping his tongue reverently across the many welts and savoring the heat radiating from Will’s skin. Will’s breath was leaving him in loud, juddering bursts, incomprehensible sounds spilling from his mouth. 

    Sweat and tears stung and blurred his eyes. His body felt leaden, glowing with honeyed fire. His head was floaty, an unmoored boat drifting out to sea. Through the clouding of his vision, he registered the sight of Hannibal leaning across the gurney to kiss Dr. Chilton. The two psychiatrists’ mouths feasted on each other over Will’s prone form, while their hands mapped his contours. When they broke apart, both doctors were breathing heavily. Frederick appeared slightly  stunned, and was eyeing Hannibal with a mix of fear and lust. He cleared his throat nervously. 

    “Our patient could probably use some rest, Doctor Lecter,” he said practically, “let’s move him to the couch.” Hannibal and Frederick unstrapped the restraints and gingerly lifted Will from the gurney. This time, they had to escort Will to prevent his legs from buckling under him. Together, they gently lowered Will onto his stomach on the chaise lounge. Chilton wiped sweat and hair from Will's brow while Hannibal rubbed his stinging wrists and ankles. Both murmured words of encouragement and praise which Will hazily basked in, too exhausted to acknowledge them with more than quiet hums and small nods of his head. He watched dazedly, fighting the urge to sleep, as his doctors explored each other while he took his much needed rest. 

    Chilton hesitantly approached Hannibal, stepping close and placing a tentative, almost chaste kiss on his lips. Hannibal drew him in, putting a hand on Chilton’s low back and pulling him flush against him. The kiss deepened, and Will felt himself growing hot watching their hands roam over each other. Hannibal made a small surprised sound when Chilton grabbed his ass. He reciprocated the gesture. Frederick began to kiss down the column of Hannibal’s neck, and Hannibal growled. 

    Just as Will was dimly thinking that they were both wearing too many clothes, Hannibal began to unbutton Frederick’s shirt. Chilton startled when Hannibal nipped at his collarbone.  “Watch your teeth, Dr. Lecter,” he chuckled, an undercurrent of true unease straining his jocular tone, “if what Will says about you is true, I'm in no rush to end up on your plate.”

    “But you're good enough to eat, Frederick.” Hannibal quipped with a wink. The sound Chilton made when Hannibal bit more deeply into the crook of his neck was somewhere between a hysterical giggle and a moan. Hannibal removed Chilton’s shirt and ran his hands up and down his torso. He traced carefully over the scar left by Abel Gideon’s surgery, stroking it lovingly. Frederick gasped loudly when Hannibal dropped to his knees, positively worshipping the scar with his tongue. “You're not doing much to put my mind at ease, Hannibal” he said shakily, but his erection was all too obvious. Hannibal smiled against Chilton’s skin. “Scars are the topography of trauma, Frederick. Each one is a testament to our resilience. Abel Gideon left his mark on you and you are stronger for surviving him.” Chilton tangled his fingers in Hannibal's silky ash-blonde hair, breathing heavily. “I'd rather have both kidneys, thank you.” 

   A few more nervous laughs escaped Frederick before Hannibal stood and swallowed them in another kiss. Chilton shucked off Hannibal’s shirt, strewing light kisses and licks across his chest. The two men pressed tightly to each other, their erections creating delicious friction. Will raised himself cautiously to his elbows to watch them. He waited for them to break apart, and then held his arms out, wordlessly gesturing for them to come to him. 

   His doctors hemmed him in between them, each licking a path up his stinging back. Hannibal cupped Will’s face, staring into his  eyes with that searching gaze that gave Will the feeling he could read his innermost thoughts as clearly as if they were typed on a page. Hannibal kissed him, and Will tried to communicate all his desperate longing and hurt in the tangle of their tongues. Needing also to convey his gratitude to his new therapist for believing him when no one else did, he pulled Dr. Chilton into the kiss. All of their mouths were moving in concert, lips, tongues, and teeth seeking to drink each other in, to learn each subtle flavor.  Both of these men held such power over him, even the power of life or death itself, depending on their testimonies at his trial. It only made sense, then, to surrender to them in every way. To give them physically what they already held so precariously. Here they all were, bound inextricably by strange and frightful circumstance, by blood, and now by flesh. 

   Driven into a positive frenzy by this overload of sensation, this blurring of boundaries, Will scrabbled to remove both men’s pants, desperate to feel all of their skin against all of his. Frederick and Hannibal were all too happy to accommodate his efforts, and soon all three were nude, tangling like garter snakes. They continued to savour each other, their bodies a banquet. 

    “Doctor Lecter, Doctor Chilton,” Will petitioned, his voice low and urgent, “I want you. I need you to just...just take me. Fuck me. Both of you.” His face burned. Ashamed of his neediness, his grovelling, Will looked down, focusing his eyes on Hannibal’s chest as his finger made lazy circles in the silvery chest hair. Hannibal tilted his chin up gently, tracing the pad of his thumb across Will’s stubble. “Darling boy, there could be no greater pleasure,” he breathed. Chilton chimed in, “I couldn’t agree more.” 

     Rolling onto his back, Hannibal pulled Will onto his lap, so that he was straddling his thighs. Will’s own thighs still throbbed from the caning, and his legs trembled. Hannibal stroked a soothing hand down Will’s flank. he grasped his cock and proffered it to Will. “You’ll need to get it quite slick,” he stated matter of factly. “Yes, Doctor,” Will said obediently, bending his head to the task. He swirled his tongue up and down the length of Lecter’s shaft, reacquainting himself with the taste of his former lover. God, how he’d missed this. Will teased the head of Hannibal’s cock, kissing it innocently, then flicking the slit with his tongue. The doctor’s earthy scent and the taste of him was overwhelming. He savored the sound of his gasps and moans, the whispered phrases in a foreign, lilting tongue that tumbled from Hannibal’s lips. Wrapping one hand around the base of Dr. Lecter’s cock, Will stroked him firmly while he continued to suck and lavish it with his tongue. 

    Will startled when he felt the warm suction of  Chilton’s lips on his rump. The doctor’s tongue followed the diverging paths of welts and his teeth nipped gently at the meat of Will’s ass. When Chilton’s tongue pushed inside of him, Will moaned loudly around Hannibal’s cock, causing his other doctor to hiss and yank his curls hard. Chilton moaned and lapped at Will as if he were enjoying the most exquisite cuisine. Will was swimming in pleasure, submerged in the dueling sensations of Hannibal’s cock filling his mouth and Chilton positively devouring his ass. Reluctantly, Will ceased his ministrations on Hannibal’s cock. “S--stop,” he stuttered breathlessly. Chilton flicked his tongue a few more times before pulling away to look up at Will quizzically. “Please, Doctors,” Will panted, “Fuck me. I want you inside of me.” Exhaustion was creeping into his limbs and fogging  his mind, but before he could succumb to that, he needed to feel more completely claimed by both of these men who held him captive and captivated. 

     “Beg for it,” Hannibal ordered, smiling toothily. Will made a frustrated little growl in the back of his throat and glared at Hannibal. Of course, he could never make it easy. “Please,” Will repeated, struggling to form coherent thought as Chilton resumed his licking in the interim. “Please, I...I’ll do anything. Please, Doctors. You know I’m yours. Do what you want with me, but please, just fuck me now.” His whole body was hot with embarrassment, and Will couldn’t help leaning to whisper “You bastard” in Hannibal’s ear. Hannibal’s eyes twinkled with amusement. “Good enough,” he said cooly. Will ground his teeth in irritation, but his frustration quickly melted away when Hannibal grabbed him by the hips and lifted him until the head of the doctor’s cock was nudging against his hole. Will impaled himself on Hannibal’s cock, pushing down swiftly and crying out in commingled relief and pain. He was soothed by Chilton kissing along his neck and back while he began riding Hannibal in a slow but steady rhythm. Will’s eyes fluttered closed as he revelled in the feeling of Hannibal thrusting up into him. When he opened them again, he was greeted with the sight of Hannibal’s face wearing a smug smile. The self-satisfied arrogance of it irked him, and he delivered a stinging slap to Hannibal’s face just to wipe the smirk off. 

     Dr. Lecter caught his wrist and twisted it sharply behind his back. Will cried out. “Be good now,” Hannibal said, his voice low and dangerous. “Remember, you agreed to give up control.” The resentment he felt towards Hannibal stung him like a thicket of nettles, but at the same time, the doctor was right, as ever. Will had put himself in this position, and he was enjoying himself thoroughly, even if part of him still very much wanted to see Hannibal brought to justice or at least taken down a peg. He bit his lip hard, and forced himself to say, “Yes. Sorry, Doctor Lecter.” At that, Hannibal released his wrist and increased the pace of his thrusting. Will groaned, surrendering his last shred of resistance. 

   Dr. Chilton kissed him deeply and bit at his lower lip. Frederick’s brown eyes were full of hunger and his typically haughty expression had been replaced by one of worship. “You really are something special, Will Graham” he mused appreciatively. Will gave him a crooked smile. Infuriating as Chilton could be, Will had come to appreciate his sass and his  occasional moments of humility, and even tenderness. Hooking his arm around Chilton’s waist, he pulled him close. Will gripped Chilton’s cock in his hand and quickly swallowed it, making sure to coat it well with his saliva. He withdrew his mouth, chuckling slightly at the disappointed look on the doctor’s face. “Shut up and fuck me, Doctor” he said pleasantly. 

    Hannibal stilled his movements, holding Will's hips tightly. Frederick stood behind Will, gripping his shoulders and kissing his neck and back sweetly as he eased himself into Will,  at first nudging only the head of his cock into Will's already filled hole. Will exhaled slowly, focusing on relaxing his body. He'd never done this before, but it felt right. As Chilton worked his way into him inch by inch, Hannibal stroked Will’s cock languidly. Will moaned, hungrily covering Hannibal’s lips with his own. When Chilton was fully sheathed inside Will, he kissed along his jaw. “God, you’re incredible” he whispered in Will’s ear, and ran his tongue along the shell of his ear. Will shivered and began to rock slowly on both cocks. 

    He’d never felt so stretched, so full, so debauched before. Hannibal sat up and kissed Will’s chest, then leaned around Will to pull Chilton into a kiss. Will licked and nibbled at both doctors’ necks as they kissed over his shoulder. The speed and force of their thrusts began to increase. “Fuck,” Will groaned, gripping onto Hannibal’s arms like a life raft as the two doctors pummeled his ass. Chilton resumed kissing his back, murmuring words of praise as he did. 

     Watching Will's blissful expression slipping into an almost trance like state, Hannibal seized Will’s throat in one hand and choked him, looking deep into his eyes. Will struggled to breathe, bucking his hips as if to run away from the pressure around his windpipe. His hands scrabbled at Hannibal’s, trying to pry him off as his lungs burned. The grip on his throat didn’t relax until he was woozy, his lungs feeling as if they would burst, and his eyes stinging with tears. Will gasped and gulped air frenziedly, grabbing onto Hannibal’s chest and digging  his nails in. Hannibal smiled wolfishly and bit hard at Will’s lower lip. Will cut his eyes at him, but he had to admit, now that oxygen was rushing back into his system, he felt amazingly  weightless, and each thrust of his doctor’s cocks inside of him seemed to light up every nerve. 

    “Oh Jesus, oh fuck, Doctors” Will moaned, barely able to form the words. It was too good, being stretched and pounded by both men, their cocks sliding against each other as they pistoned in and out of him. Hannibal continued to stroke his cock, and Will keened, overcome by pleasure. Chilton grasped his jaw and turned his head to kiss him and then Hannibal leaned in, all three of their mouths again tangling and tasting. All three were moaning, their breath harsh and ragged. Hannibal stroked Will’s cheek and gripped his chin tightly. “You’re taking this so well, Will. Who knew you were such a slut?” he purred. Will’s face flamed, but Hannibal’s words went straight to his groin. He could only whimper in response. 

   He was beginning to unravel, his body wracked with tremors as his doctors pounded against his prostate, and Hannibal worked his cock. Chilton bit down hard on his shoulder, and Will came, coating Hannibal’s hand and torso in pearly ropes of semen. Both doctors continued thrusting hard into him until first Chilton and then Hannibal came as well, filling Will with their cum. When they both pulled out, he felt hollowed. Sticky streams of semen trickled down his thighs. It was so shamefully good, being used like this. He collapsed against Hannibal, pressing his face to the doctor’s muscled chest. To his surprise, Will felt tears trickling down his cheeks. Hannibal pulled his face up and gently licked the salt water from his face. Will sighed shakily. 

      “That was incredible,” Chilton murmured, kissing Will’s jaw lightly. Will nodded, too wrung out to speak. “Exquisite,” Hannibal agreed. They all breathed deeply, taking a moment to recover, and lazily stroking each other. After a few quiet minutes of basking in the afterglow, they slowly peeled apart. Chilton sighed, “I’m afraid we’ve run over our time considerably. Dr. Lecter and I will be needed elsewhere soon. We’d best be going. And we could all use a good shower.” 

     Will felt dazed as he pulled on his glasses and jumpsuit. He’d momentarily forgotten why they were all here, falling into a daydream of walking out the door with Hannibal, collapsing into bed with him. He turned to Hannibal and silently began buttoning his shirt, tying his tie. It made him feel like a housewife sending her husband off to work. He wished it could be that simple for them. Hannibal tilted his chin up and appraised him, stroking his cheek before kissing him deeply. 


	3. three

     It was surreal walking through the hospital corridors past nurses and orderlies who didn’t give them a second glance. Will felt like there must be some sort of aura  about them that would surely give away what they’d done. When they arrived at his cell, Dr. Chilton squeezed his shoulders. “I’ll see you for our next session” he said warmly. Will nodded silently. Every nerve in his body was balking against walking back into that cell. Hannibal shook his hand, a strangely formal gesture, after everything they'd just done. “I’ll be here again soon, Will” he reassured him. Will quickly glanced down the hallway, and noting that it was blessedly empty, he pulled Hannibal into a hug and pressed a brief, desperate kiss to his lips. “You know where to find me,” he said with a rueful smile. 

    He stepped into his cell and stood at the bars until both of his doctors’ forms had passed through the security door and out of sight. He collapsed onto his cot, his mind racing. If he did get out of this alive, what the hell was he going to do about Hannibal? Every impulse in him shouted that he belonged with him, but knowing what Hannibal really was, what did that mean? Will closed his eyes and pressed his hands to his temple as if to squeeze out his thoughts. He tried to empty his mind, focusing on the ambient sounds of his cell block, the murmurings and jabberings of the criminally insane. Not for the first time, he wondered if he really did belong here among them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title for this story was inspired by season 3's use of Italian culinary terms. Agrodolce is a sweet and sour sauce made by reducing vinegar and sugar. 
> 
> I thought that the sweet/sour interplay worked rather well for a light sampling of BDSM with a dash of complicated relationships and mixed feelings.


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